In My Own Words
by vintagescarlett
Summary: How does an innocent game of Scrabble between Alec and Jace affect Clary, Izzy and Magnus? Slightly OOC. R&R. Chapter 10 is up!
1. Alec

**Disclaimer: **Cassandra Clare owns The Mortal Instruments series.

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**Chapter 1**

"Sphinxon? You've clearly gone too far this time".

A Scrabble board sits between Alec and Jace. As usual, Jace has decided to discard all the rules of the game by dictating that they can both make up words. Alec silently scoffs at the idea, as well as Jace's assumption that they receive "points for creativity".

"It's a demon in the form of a sphinx", Jace says with a smirk.

Alec sighs and looks at his letters. There's not too much choice, so he gives it as cheap a shot as Jace. He arranges the letters to form, "BATREX" on the board.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me", Jace laughs. "And how are you going to explain that?"

"Easy. It's like a T Rex, but with the wings of a bat", Alec explains coolly, like he's encountered many a 'batrex', or perfected the art of bullshitting.

"No…no, I'm not buying it, Alec Lightwood", Jace says, shaking his head, the shadow of a laugh lingering on lips. Alec rolls his eyes.

"Let me know if you find a Sphinxon then. If you do, you get ten points for creativity. But if it grinds your bones to dust, then there's not much point in preventing me from getting at least some form of points for my attempt", Alec says astutely, snatching up the piece of paper and writing his score down.

"Fine", Jace says. He smiles, and Alec is instantly reminded of those evil masterminds in Max's anime films. Alec scolds himself for being so fucking paranoid, because he's not so sure if he can maintain this light-hearted mood. He wants to, but there's something about Jace's smile that unsettles him. Alec has known Jace for several years now, but it worries him that there's still some part of Jace that he still hasn't figured out. And when he first met Clary, he thought for one selfish moment (or every time he saw her) that she was the one who was going to finish the job. The one he started.

Jace surveys the letters on his stand, and gradually picks them up one by one and places them on the board. Alec takes it like a kick to the gut. This one word.

WARLOCK

"You bastard!" Alec snarls.

He launches himself across the Scrabble board, scattering the letters all over the greenhouse floor. He pins Jace down, and his fist hovers inches above his face. Jace's cheeks our flushed as he struggles beneath Alec, and from a far Alec can hear himself panting from this sudden adrenaline rush.

"Fuck off, Alec", Jace gasps as he grabs Alec's wrist and slowly pushes the hovering fist away from his face. Alec eases himself off Jace, and rolls over so that he's lying beside him.

"Why won't you admit it?" Jace asks bluntly. He doesn't mean to pry, but this question has been circulating around his mind for weeks. For the sake of Alec, as well as his own sanity.

"What?"

"Ah, that's a start. So you describe your relationship with Magnus as 'What'. Completely undefined, something too big to be contained, a realm of possibilities. Highly intelligible. Personally, I quite like your description".

Alec groans. He knew that Jace would come up with something like this. He just-

In the distance he hears a sound so unlike the screeching tyres, and scraping metal of New York traffic. He stands up, brushes the Scrabble letters out of the way with his shoe, and walks towards one of the greenhouse windows. From here, he can't see anything except for large, grey buildings. Long abandoned factories. Perfect neighbours for the Institute. And there, in the far right corner of the Institute, he spots it. A thin veil of smoke.

"Jace. Jace! Come here. Can you see that?" Alec points in the general direction of the smoke.

"Looks like someone tried to carve a portal into one of our walls", he continues.

Jace strolls over, and leans out of the window.

"They've probably left by now though", Jace ascertains. "Come on lover; let's go down to the kitchen before Maryse decides to call the Inquisitor on us again to discuss the boundaries of Parabatai. Hearing her speech once was absolute comedy gold, but hearing it twice would probably force me to gouge my eyes out with a fork".

"Clary won't be too happy", Alec chimes in.

"No. But she will be, because she'll be the one gouging my eyes out", Jace says, as he opens the greenhouse door for Alec.

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**A/N: **Hmm... more to come. Review, loves?


	2. Magnus

**Disclaimer: **Cassandra Clare owns The Mortal Instruments series.

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**Chapter 2**

Fuckery. This is what Magnus calls it. Because Magnus feels like an outsider to the Alec and Jace microcosm.

He places his hand against the wall, and the bricks vibrate violently in their places. He closes his eyes and tries to push away that image of Alec looking at Jace with such a fearful intensity because it makes his gut churn, and he feels so, so reviled.

He steps into the Portal, and a minute later his feet hit packed earth. He looks out at the East River, which is already cloaked in darkness and remembers the last time he was here. Asking, almost begging the shadowhunter to take his energy. Little did he know that that shadowhunter would eventually fuck him over. More than a hundred years old, and still, naïve as a child. Magnus is disappointed in himself.

He walks along the edge of the river, and in the distance he sees a shadow at the water's edge. Driven by morbid fascination, Magnus moves a little closer, and finds a girl, with skin as pale as snow floating on the surface of the water. _Fucking fairies_ Magnus mutters under his breath, and rolls his sleeves up so that he can pull this poor girl out of the water.

But as soon as he touches her skin, her eyes spring open and he staggers back.

"Fuck", she says shrilly as she chokes on a mouthful of water.

"Isabelle?"

Izzy splutters for a minute or two, and Magnus finds it amusing how her arms flail about like a bird trapped against the wind, before she gains purchase and pulls herself, with great difficulty, out of the water. Whale bone, almost always weighs you down, Magnus thinks. And he wonders why she wears those fucking corsets all the time.

When she doesn't even need to.

Izzy collapses on the bank next to him, and they lie side by side, looking at the ink black sky with no stars in sight.

"He leant in first. And I closed my eyes, and I let him hold me because I haven't been held by anyone in _such _a long time. Meliorn must have enchanted me. That's why I can't remember anything", Izzy says quietly.

"Fuck romance, Izzy".

Izzy looks up sadly.

"Don't be so fucking insensitive Magnus", she chides, as she grabs a handful of grass and throws it towards the river.

Magnus is struck by her forcefulness. He likes to call it, Izzy and Her Rage. Better than whatever name that fucking mundane comes up with for his 'band'. Sometimes he sees it in Alec. Waiting. Brimming. But nothing comes of it. Alec is so controlled, and sometimes, it irritates him.

"I can still see remnants of the enchantment on your arm", Magnus says, as he reaches towards Izzy.

Izzy looks at her arms and frowns.

"I don't see anything. How do I know that I can trust you?" Izzy asks.

Her eyes are so like her brother's and Magnus looks away. It's almost like facing Alec. Almost. And he hasn't forgiven him yet. But there's something different about her eyes. Like she's seen something he hasn't. Or seen too much. And if he stays around for long enough he can find out what it is.

"Because I'm not going to put a charm on you then throw you in a fucking river", he replies.

Magnus gently cups one hand under her forearm and places his other hand on top, and he notices that Izzy's whole body shifts ever so slightly as if she were surprised by his touch.

"So where do you keep all your secrets, Magnus Bane?" Izzy asks quickly.

"In my bedroom of course".

"Secrets to everything?", she persists.

"Just to the universe. Not to life".

Izzy smiles.

"I better get back to the Institute before Maryse decides to use me as demon bait", Izzy says as Magnus lets go her arm.

"You know, you already are".

"Don't be so fucking sly Magnus Bane", Izzy laughs.

"Do you want me to accompany you?"

"Don't you start. I'm going to have to start sleeping with Clarissa soon. Can't trust any of you", Izzy says. She winks at Magnus before she heads off and Magnus watches her disappear through the trees.

Fuckery.

This is what Magnus calls it. Because Magnus likes Izzy and Her Rage too much to let go of her at this point in time.

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**A/N:** Izzy/Magnus?? We'll see. Review, loves? : )


	3. Clary

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instrument Series. **

Clary glares at the small black and white tiles falling into place on the departure board.

DELAY

Too right. Her plane had been delayed for several days. Her life was in delay. _She_ was in delay.

And she was also stuck in a French airport, gaining little to no comfort from having to use her backpack as a pillow, and clawing at the floor aimlessly for a boy who seemed to be half way across the world. She missed it all. The Lightwoods. The gothic feel of the Institute. Izzy's experimental meals (which she has actually taken a liking too). Laughing at Simon's fucking weird ideas for band names. And shoving her feet underneath Jace's back when he's lying down, to warm them.

DELAY

She needs to get back to New York City as soon as she can. But she promised someone that she wouldn't use her stele unless her life was truly in danger. Sleep deprived individuals meandering around an airport did not present a danger as of yet.

The nearest café wasn't too far a way so she decides to queue up to buy a latte that will hopefully allow her to survive the night. She cranes her neck towards the chalkboard to find something amongst the jumble of words that vaguely resembles 'latte' and accidentally catches the eye of a cute French boy a few people ahead. She quickly averts her gaze. A little too quickly. Because the cute French boy is looking at her with curiosity, and she just wants to order and get the hell out of there before this escalates into some European fantasy in which Jace finds her smoking joints on the roof of a building with little more than a towel draped across her body.

Such a lovely, romantic thought at 2am in the morning.

When she pulls the money (A fist full of bills. She's too tired to count it all) out of her purse, a shadow seems to leap across her, and her head jerks up instantly. The cute French boy is leaning against the counter, glancing from the latte to her, and she knows that when a cute French boy shouts you coffee you just can't just ignore him. So she mumbles 'merci' and when he still doesn't move she agrees ,albeit, a little reluctantly, to keep him company for a while.

They settle into a little booth in the corner of the café, and she doesn't know where to look, or where to start. He asks her what her name is. He messes it up a few times. After a few shaky pronunciations, he produces a very nice "Clariza". She doesn't mind. It makes her name sound exotic.

In the flickering light of the lamp, bathing both of them in blue light he reaches over, presumably to see how much coffee she has left in her cup, and her eye catches something that isn't quite right. She can clearly see his veins illuminated in the light and she shudders because his pulsing veins seem so…unnatural. Thin tubes winding up his wrist, throbbing with a liquid that is an unsettling shade of purple. Maybe it's the light, or her lack of sleep. But she's quite sure that she's not _that _delusional.

She stands up, and he seems startled.

"I have to go", she says dryly. "But thank you, merci, thank you for the…". She gestures loosely at the almost empty cup of coffee. Her words becomes jumbled when she walks away and she wonders why she can still feel his breath on her neck. She shivers despite the climbing temperature of the airport.

She knows that she needs to get out of there. Because she can't attack demons in broad daylight. It's too risky. And she needs another night to sleep on it before making another haphazard decision like the one she made tonight. And so she rests her head on her back pack, closes her eyes and finds herself repeating relentlessly like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, "Please get me the fuck out of here. I'm going slightly insane".

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**A/N: I wrote this in my sleep deprived state. I can't find the draft of the rest of the story because I gave it a really weird name (That I have now forgotton. But on another note, does anyone else do this?). Lack of continuity…galore. And, yeah. The pairings seem a little weird at the moment but they will eventually work themselves out. As soon as I figure out where I'm actually going with this story : / And sorry for the huugeee hiatus. **


	4. Izzy And Her Rage

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.**

Izzy runs up the steps of the Institute, and as she's about to push the door open she notices an envelope that's been shoved under the door. She reaches down, and picks it up. But she doesn't need to look for a sender because she recognizes that script. Her hands tremble slightly, and she slides the envelope into her pocket for closer inspection.

The boys are standing around the kitchen table and she finds various pieces of fruit arranged into the shape of a triangle. They're holding long rods, and she notices four plastic cups attached to the corners of the table.

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing?" she asks harshly, dropping her bag to the floor to get a closer look at their arrangement. But she's secretly impressed with what they've managed to come up with.

"Here, Iz", Alec says, pulling a long rod seemingly out of nowhere.

"Well, what can I say? Maryse will be pleased", she says sarcastically, leaning across the table and sinking one of the fruits into a cup.

Both of the boys cheer, and as Alec brushes past Izzy he gives her a peck on the cheek and passes her a drink. She squeals, like she did when she was younger and the boys erupt into laughter.

After cleaning up their game of pool and failing miserably at making fruit tarts, they sit on the kitchen floor and pass the bowl around because they've ended up pouring the rest of the alcohol into the mixture. The boys look content as they lick their fingers – and for the first time in weeks, Izzy is too.

She shifts into a more comfortable position, but she can feel something digging into her leg. She reaches behind her and her fingers brush against the smooth piece of card wedged into her back pocket. She wonders how it got there in the first place, and as soon as she holds it up against the light to get a better look at it, she realizes that she has the boys' attention too.

"What's that?" Alec asks, nodding at the piece of card. She places the card between them so that the boys can get a better look.

"Magnus", Jace says. Izzy is surprised that he can recognize Magnus' script. But Jace _was_ observant. Too observant. And sometimes it unnerves her when she catches his eye, unable to break his gaze, because she doesn't want to give away a vital piece of information that she's successfully concealed.

"He gave this to you, Izzy?" Alec says. She feels a bit guilty, because she knows that Alec is always first on Magnus' list, and this might have felt somewhat close to a taste of betrayal. Like a drop of vinegar on one's tongue.

"No, I…found it on the steps of the Institute. I was going to give it to you later, but I kind of forgot about it. I haven't looked at it yet, don't worry", Izzy says quickly.

She tries to remain as composed as possible, but she finds it stupid, how one memory will linger between her and her brother - and it's such a trivial thing too compared to what she hasn't revealed – and doesn't plan to anytime soon.

She knows that her talk with Magnus and his concern at the East River doesn't mean anything, because she treats Magnus as a friend since he's close to Alec. But she also remembers his touch and how she almost leapt away from him. She was cold, frustrated with the world, and a little nervous – so that too, she reassures herself, must have elicited a reaction like that.

Alec looks slightly annoyed, so Jace decides to take a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and throws them at Alec.

"Got them off some woman at the markets", Jace says confidently. Izzy knows that Clary despises cigarettes. She wants to snatch them away because Jace really shouldn't be doing this, but Alec is the one who lights up. Izzy doesn't really care anymore, because at least he's not trying to inject demon blood into his veins which is what some of the other shadowhunters have been experimenting with. Like some kind of ritual that an underground cult undertakes.

Alec burns holes in Magnus' invitation while Jace offers Izzy the cigarettes but she declines with a wave of her hand.

"So are you boys going to Magnus'?" Izzy asks.

"Go there every other fucking day", Alec mumbles. The invitation sits in front of him with holes and singed sides. Izzy looks away but something seems to flicker in her periphery.

She wonders if she's been hallucinating as she cranes her neck towards the piece of paper, but she's sure that she's not _that_ heavily intoxicated.

Several runes have formed on the paper, and she can't seem to believe what she's seeing. She wonders if the other boys have noticed too because all she wants to do is scrunch it up and dispose of it as quickly as possible - but it must have been one of those messages which reveals itself to only one person. A temporary piece of magic.

_Only for your eyes, Isabelle. You know that the secrets to the universe lie in my room. _

Fuck Magnus, and his fucking low standards. She wants this to end, because she can't afford to keep up with it. It's not going anywhere and she cares about her brother more than anyone else in the world at the moment. He seems so fragile, she thinks, as smoke rings drift from his lips and into the space between them.

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**A/N: Part 2 of Izzy's chapter will be posted soon-ish. Review?**


	5. The Rage Leaves Izzy Part 1

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.**

"Don't even _try_ to re create this look", Izzy says, waving the mascara brush dangerously close to Jace's face.

The brown leather jacket that she slipped out of Jace's wardrobe looks fantastic with the black maxi dress she's wearing -and she's made aware of this when Jace narrows his eyes at her. He's probably sick of having to resort to the rest of his wardrobe which is currently strewn across the bedroom floor.

Izzy laughs as she sits cross legged in front of the mirror that Jace has propped up against one wall of the room. In the reflection, she can see the muscles of Jace's back tighten as he bends down to retrieve a navy blue sweater off the floor. He's lost a lot of weight and she wants to wrap her arms around him and tell him that she can't stand this waiting too. But she knows that she can't, because if she does she'll have to divulge a lot more.

And that's what makes her walk down the stairs of the Institute - instead of sitting there, mascara poised mid air, feeling helpless and so vulnerable that her skin could tear.

…

When they reach Magnus' door, Izzy manages to coax Alec into ringing the doorbell. She knows he has a key to the apartment - but he won't admit it - so her and Jace snicker while Alec pretends to make a show of not being bestowed with the convenience of a key.

After a few minutes Magnus appears at the door drenched in glitter. Izzy just wants to shield her eyes from the tiny rhinestones glued (fairly artistically) to his skin. She can't look him in the eye, so she smiles at nothing in particular and walks up the apartment stairs with Jace following closely behind her. As she pulls up the hem of her dress to avoid tripping up the stairs, she glances back briefly and notices that Magnus can't even muster a fraction of Alec's enthusiasm when he's embracing him – and she hopes that Alec won't detect this – because a part of her regrets coming here in the first place.

She tells Jace that she's going to get them drinks, but he holds onto the crook of her arm and tells her that it's cruel to leave him here, stranded amongst fairies, and other creatures whom he doesn't take a particular liking too. Izzy sighs, and proceeds to pry his fingers from her arm.

"You'll be fine. Go. Go and entertain them. Or be entertained", she hisses.

"Iz.." he trails off. And she's reminded of that little boy. The one who used to look at her with those sad, sad eyes when he felt left out or slightly uncomfortable. Izzy hates seeing this side of Jace, but she simply disappears through the crowd as if he were a ghost trying futilely to restrain her.

Izzy's been here a few times so she has an idea of where Magnus' room is located. Once she finds the door, she surveys the rest of the apartment quickly, before slipping inside. It takes her a moment or two to adjust to the darkness. There's a few candles scattered around the room, and scarves of bronze and gold are draped across the ceiling, creating a canopy like that of a circus tent. A large bed sits in the center of the room, heavily decorated with cushions and blankets of various textures. Compared to the immaculate, white walls of the Institute, Magnus' room could be mistaken for a brothel.

Her eyes fall on a book case and she smiles. The book she's looking for sits alone on one side of the shelf and she slides it out of place. Energy radiates from its pages.

She opens the book and runes seem to waver before her eyes – runes she barely recognizes, runes she uses all the time. She keeps turning each page, careful not to linger for too long, in search for a single rune that will solve her current problem. And then she sees it. It's a complicated rune. Her mind traces its edges and her forehead creases in concentration.

And then she hears a noise in the distance. It's gradual at first, like a slow exhalation.

She hopes it's a heavily intoxicated couple gasping for breath in the dark.

Or Magnus' cat.

But it's never the cat or the gyrating couple.

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**A/N: I'm listening to Spring Awakening. Irrelevant, but it's good. Review?** (for Jace's amazing floordrobe).


	6. The Rage Leaves Izzy Part 2

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.**

She looks up and a figure looms before her. The edges of her mouth turn up, and in the next minute, she forces a smile for Magnus.

"And what do we have here, Isabelle?" he asks, taking the book out of her hands. He looks at it briefly before reaching behind her and putting the book back on the shelf. Izzy's heart is racing because she wonders if he's going to tell Alec but she _thinks_ she can strike a deal.

Her gaze is level with Magnus', and this time, she tries to hold onto it. "You said I'd find the secrets to the universe here", she says, quoting from their previous conversation.

"And did you?" he asks, leaning in.

Izzy wants to scream because this seems so, so wrong. But she doesn't want to break the illusion so she stays completely still. As his lips linger closer, something seems to snap within her, and she knows – regardless of the amount of trouble she'll get into about sneaking into his room and looking at the Book of Grey without his permission – that this is the right time to end what Magnus started.

"Cold, fucking betrayal", she snarls into his ear. Magnus stiffens. He steps away from her and his eyes seem glassy. He runs his hand through his hair, and flakes of glitter drift to the ground like snow.

"What about, Alec? What happened, Magnus?" she continues in a harsh whisper.

"I saw you push him away tonight. He was thrilled to see you and you didn't even fucking notice him. You can't just kick him to the side like you did all those other girls. Alec is _more_, Magnus. Alec is more than that", she says. Her voice quivers, but she needs to know that he understands.

Magnus slams his fist into the book case.

"Have you ever asked yourself that? Do you even_ know_ what betrayal means? Well, it's this. It's like having a knife thrown through you several times when you see the person you love most fucking around with someone else".

Izzy is shocked. She doesn't know what to expect now.

"What's this then? Izzy says, gesturing from her to Magnus.

"You shouldn't have acted the way you did at the East River. You brought it out in me, it seemed like you were pushing for a chance so - " Magnus says.

"Well, don't you fucking use me to spite my brother ever again, Magnus Bane!" she says with as much force as she can muster, because Izzy doesn't know who's side she's on anymore.

Magnus slams the door behind him, and Izzy collapses against the book case, and looks out the window. Where did she go wrong? She needed to see Clary. Needed to be reminded of what went wrong.

As she leaves Magnus' room, she sees those familiar blue eyes that mirror her own in the crowd. She realises that they've never been further apart as Alec turns away and doesn't even chance a second glance in her direction.

And Izzy realizes that it doesn't matter where she went wrong in the first place - she's already traveling along a steep decline.

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**A/N: **Really short chapter, I know. The next one will definitely be longer. Or longer than this one at least. Review?


	7. Jace

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series. **

Jace has his driver's license. Clary is proud. Alec is envious. And Izzy is just a little worried.

He offers to pick Clary up from the airport, and the Lightwoods -to his relief - do not object. Izzy tells him that she'll stay at the Institute and Alec volunteers to accompany Jace instead of staying with his sister. Jace is a little hesitant about this arrangement but he doesn't mention it to Alec who seems adamant about his decision.

He walks over to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for Alec. Alec calls Jace a bastard and roughly pulls the door close behind him while Jace shrugs. He takes one more look at the Institute before sliding the keys into the ignition and placing his foot on the accelerator. He's nervous about seeing Clary. But his nerves are tinged with excitement, like a thin wisp of cigarette smoke.

"You're too close to the car in front of you, Jace. Ease off a bit", Alec says, in a measured tone.

"You're not a fucking driving instructor, Alec", Jace replies, calmly. He sighs. Alec always thinks its his place to critique his driving, and it annoys the fuck out of him.

"No. No, I'm not. You don't need to be a _fucking _driving instructor to realize that. It's human judgment", Alec says.

"Human judgment? We're calling ourselves mundanes now, are we? No longer members of the shadowhunting world?" Jace chases.

"You know what I mean. My life's at stake. I'm doing what I can", Alec says, sliding further down his seat and adjusting the volume on the car stereo.

And the thing that Jace likes most about driving – winning every single argument. He's surprised that Alec has even decided to accompany him, because he's not _that_ close to Clary and he doesn't particularly like to be too far away from the Institute (or Magnus' apartment). Also, Alec - being the oldest - despises losing to either Jace, Izzy or Clary.

"Almost there, Alec, dear. You'll be free from this metal cage soon enough", Jace says with mock enthusiasm. He glances over at Alec who grips the car seat with the ferocity of a wild animal. Jace _loves _Alec's little insecurities.

It takes them - what seems like hours - to find a parking bay and when they do Jace realizes that he's managed to scratch paint off the car. He tries to pretend that nothing has happened, and he curses under his breath when he knows that Alec has seen it.

…

It's absolutely packed inside the airport and he doesn't even know where to begin looking for Clary until Alec gives him two sharp taps on the arm. He can't see too well from here, but as the crowd gradually disperses he spots Clary sitting on a bench not too far from where they're standing. His heart softens when he sees her wearing those huge Holly Golightly glasses that she purchased a year before, at the Old Hollywood section of the markets they frequented. Her hair, radiant as ever, is slightly shorter, but it frames her face nicely.

"Clary!" Jace calls, quickening his pace. Clary looks up and smiles. Jace loves how she doesn't stop smiling - because once again, it's just the two of them.

He gathers her in his arms, and she gasps. But Jace feels different. Like Clary's just not enough to fill the gap she left when she went to France. And he wants to break down right there, in the middle of the airport, because he needs the old Clary back. He knows it's bullshit, and it's probably their lengthy separation that has left him feeling like this, but he can't help hoping for something else. For _more_.

When Alec touches his arm lightly, he releases her. Clary squeezes his hand, and he watches as she hugs Alec briefly. He's trying to figure out the difference so that he can fix it -reverse it, somehow. But he can't see it. Not yet.

It's a little awkward as they stand there, not uttering a single word. Jace has his hands deep in his pockets, and Clary (sunglasses conveniently covering half her face) beams at him and Alec.

"Well, did you get us anything from France?" Alec asks.

_Alec lacks tact. It's so obvious_, Jace thinks. He gives Alec a playful shove and takes Clary's hand in his.

When they get to the car, Clary calls shot gun and Alec sulks as he's confined to the back seat. Jace quickly slides the mix tape that Clary made him before she left for France into the car stereo and settles into those dulcet tones so lovingly created by Carla Bruni. He prefers the Brigitte Bardot tracks that Clary's sneaked on there because they seem half as melodramatic as Ms Bruni's, but personally, he likes her voluptuous figure better.

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**A/N:** Sooo. This is kind of an in-between chapter that I wasn't intending to put in. But, I hope you liked it? haha. Review? (btw, concrit is most welcome too because my writing can be a bit dodge at times).


	8. Clary Speaks

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.**

"How do you feel?"

Clary looks up. She can just make out the faint curve of Izzy's lips in the dark. She bites her own lip and contemplates Izzy's question. How does she feel? She hasn't asked herself that in such a long time.

"Weird," she decides. This is the best she can do for now.

"Weird?" Izzy echoes.

"In the arrival lounge I wasn't looking for Jace. I just sat there, hoping that he wouldn't show up. And I don't exactly know why I wished that. I mean, we parted on good terms before I left for France – but sitting in that arrival lounge - it was like a test. And I was fucking scared that we'd both fail it. And you know what, Izzy? I think we were pretty close to failure because I've never felt so uncomfortable in my life when he hugged me. I'm not sure if I can retrace my steps and fix whatever I left in pieces. I'm just so fucking scared", Clary admits.

Tears run soundlessly down her cheeks, and in the dark she can hear Izzy crying softly. She moves forward so that she can hold Izzy in her arms. And so they sit there, warding off sleep and the next bad decision.

"Me too. I'm so sorry", Izzy says repeatedly. Clary presses her lips to Izzy's hair, but it's a weak attempt to soothe her, because her whole body is shaking and she finds herself clinging to Izzy instead.

"Can I see your scars?" Clary whispers after a while. Izzy smiles sadly and peels her sweater off. Clary marvels at how the moonlight falls softly against her skin. As she leans in closer to get a better look, her stomach lurches when she sees the faint marks that marr the insides of Izzy's arms.

Because they're the same marks that marr her own.

"They're fading," Izzy says –hopeful - as she runs one finger down her arm. "What about yours?"

Clary rolls her sleeves up and examines the insides of her arms. Small puncture wounds are scattered across her skin, as abundant as a constellation of stars. She bites her lip as if she can feel the cold metal tip of the needle sliding tenderly into her skin. Looking over at Izzy, she can see pain reflected in her eyes too.

"Alec was smoking cigarettes the other day. I wanted to stop him, but I couldn't bring myself too. Nobody should take advice from someone who's consumed demon blood," Izzy says quietly.

Clary remembers the rush. The surge of power that soared through her veins every time she injected a little bit more magic into her blood stream. But then she also remembers the hollowness. The hollowness that threatened to drown her when she couldn't get more.

She's living in that hollowness now.

"You're not doing it anymore, are you?" Clary asks.

"No…not any more," Izzy says. But Clary's not convinced.

"Izzy.." she tries.

"Not any more," Izzy repeats. Her voice is firm this time and it frightens Clary.

"What about you?" Izzy asks. Izzy tries to meet her eye, but Clary looks out the window instead. She's surprised at what Izzy has admitted, and to her shock, a little disappointed because she did not expect this outcome. But she's not ready to confess. Not yet.

"I'm fine too. It was good traveling to France. Took my mind of everything. I could think clearer there. It was fine. It was great", Clary improvises.

She hopes that Izzy doesn't notice this sudden change in tone, but Izzy seems to know her better than herself right now – and she's on to it in a second.

"No. You're not fine," Izzy states.

Images flash through her mind. The boy at the café at the airport. She could sense his need. And she saw how his need matched hers. The back seat of a car, littered with cigarette butts, CDs and newspapers. The sleeve of a leather jacket wrapped around the top of her arm. Cigarette smoke billowing between them. A silver glint. Metal meeting soft skin. And the feeling she both loves and hates – oblivion. Coursing through her veins. She wants to bask in it for the rest of her life. Because to her, it's enough. It's more than enough. And she's screaming for it. Inside, she's screaming for that sort of familiarity.

Now she knows that Izzy can sense it in her too.

"France didn't dry you out did it?" Izzy asks, tentatively, with a hint of curiosity that Clary finds peculiar.

Clary feels like she's been stranded on the other side of a tall fence. On one side, is Izzy - a beacon of light. Joining her, is Alec and Jace. The distance between them grows. And she watches them - until they're merely a speck against the sky. And she thinks about how she would like to disappear too.

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**A/N:** This chapter took a few uploads. I have no idea why (ughhh ffnet ). Thank you so much for reading/reviewing. ( this goes for all the chapters). And yeah, reviews, concrit - anything, really, are lovely as always.


	9. Clary Is Unhinged

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series. **

**A/N: This is a flashback sequence sort - of - thing. Pretend it's italicized. Or not. **

**On another note, thanks for reading/reviews!  
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Clary has just met Issac.

No.

Clary has just caught a passing mention of Issac between gasps (not hers) and muffled attempts at an explanation.

She climbs onto the end of the couch, and takes the joint out of Izzy's hand. Pressing it between her lips, she finds that she's a little too close for comfort - but she doesn't care – and neither does Izzy, or Issac, who seem oblivious to everything except each other.

Clary exhales dramatically and tries to catch a glimpse of the new boy. He looks a lot like Meliorn – pointed ears, pale, clear skin and a fairly small frame. But there's something else that seems to unhinge Clary – unlike a crooked nose, and an imperfect set of teeth (undeniably reminiscent of human features), his eyes are a startlingly green. And as his lust for Izzy grows - until it's holding both of them in its grasp – the colour of his eyes intensify.

Clary remembers where she's seen those eyes before. It's not a trick of light, or her drug induced state that is alerting her to this.

It's Magnus. Magnus has similar eyes.

Izzy hooks her ankle around hers as she's about to stand up. Issac slides off the couch with the grace of a panther, and Izzy wraps her hand around Clary's neck and pulls her close. The words come quickly.

"Issac's a hybrid. Isn't that the most fascinating thing you've ever heard?" Izzy breathes.

"A what?" Clary hisses.

"A hybrid. He's like, part warlock, part fairy."

"No. No way. That's not possible. I mean, wouldn't that make him a pure demon? He'll mostly have demon blood running through his veins, right?" Clary tries to logic.

"Clarissa, anything's possible. You're just beginning to realize that," Izzy laughs.

"Is that the worst part?" Clary asks tentatively, taking another drag of the joint she's holding.

"No. Yes. Who fucking knows," Izzy says, as Issac returns and gives her a quick kiss.

Clary doesn't like it when people sum up her life in one sentence. Like Issac's eyes, Jace's intensity and the pronunciation of her full name - it unhinges her.

"This lovely lady is going to give me a heart attack. My heart is beating astonishingly fast," Issac purrs, maintaining his gaze on Izzy. Clary fears that Izzy may pull a muscle, because it's not possible for a person to smile _that_ much – but she knows she's being cynical and decides to forgive Issac for his poor sense of humour - which is nothing, she may add, beyond fucking terrible.

Issac whispers something in Izzy's ear, and Clary can tell – from the way she changes her posture - that he has suggested something she doesn't agree with.

" Only if Clary comes with me," Izzy says.

Izzy glances at Clary and she squints like she can't see clearly, as Izzy's large hoop earrings catch the light.

"Please Clary? Will you come with me?" Izzy asks, extending her hand.

The rawness that is so pertinent in Izzy's voice has been stripped away and Clary wants nothing more than to take this opportunity to ask Izzy what she's in for - but there doesn't seem to be much time as Issac already has his arm wrapped around Izzy's waist.

She nods and takes Izzy's hand. Izzy's grip tightens and Clary repeatedly tells herself that she's doing this for Izzy's sake – rather than Alec's – but it doesn't seem to work. She knows that he's most likely to pin the blame on her when she returns to the Institute if she turns up with a drunk, drugged – or in the worst case scenario - no Izzy at all.

Clary and Izzy are led down a narrow hallway. The occasional grunt, and soft laughter emanate from closed doors. At the end of the hallway, Issac knocks a few times before someone swings the door open, and gestures for the three of them to enter.

Clary doesn't need to go to college to figure out where she's seen this set up before. She would have thought that a boy who bears traits of a warlock and a fairy would opt for eccentricity rather than normality. But Issac proves her wrong again, because his room, or what she assumes is his room, looks exactly like a college dorm room - from the posters on the wall, to the mustard yellow carpet, and finally the kitchenette, partially obscured from view.

"Just through here," he says, sweeping the beaded door curtain aside.

He pulls a key out of his pocket and slips it into the complicated lock of his kitchen cabinet. Izzy leans against the sink and looks up at the bright, fluorescent light – she seems entranced.

Issac appears to be struggling with the key.

"Hey, do you need help?" Clary asks.

"I reckon I've got it," Issac says, as he pops the locks open. "Brilliant." He reaches into the cabinet to pull out a few bottles and a wooden box adorned with symbols foreign to Clary.

"So…which one of you is Valentine's daughter?" Issac asks as he rummages through the box.


	10. Clary Learns

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the Mortal Instruments series.**

**A/N: And...the flashback continues. Enjoy! Thanks for reading and leaving reviews!**

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Clary doesn't know whether to look at it from a biological or personal perspective. However, her indecisiveness seems to propel the tour de force that is Izzy's answer.

"I'm Valentine's daughter", Izzy says, a little too confidently.

Clary shoots Izzy a warning glance but she's too late. Issac raises one eyebrow – _fucking magic trick_, Clary thinks – and then returns to the box and the bottles. Clary can't see what he's doing – mixing drinks probably – drinks that she will refuse.

"Fuck, Izzy," Clary hisses under her breath.

"I think it would be necessary for me to ask her consent first," Issac says, innocently.

Izzy laughs and quickly covers her mouth with her hand after she realises what she's done. Clary glares at Issac and turns to leave. If Izzy chooses to side with a stranger, she doesn't want to be there to witness it.

"Oh, Clary, we're only fucking around". Izzy says sweetly. "Look, we're only playing. So stay. I _like_ having you around", she tries. It's a weak attempt at pleading but Clary stays anyway because that's what Alec would do.

"So, who wants to go first?" Issac says, as he reveals the bottle. A liquid tinged with red and blue swirl around the inside of the vial – a horrific shade that makes Clary gasp.

"Iz.." Clary starts, uncertain.

"What is it?" Izzy asks. The fascination is back, and poor timing is at the forefront of this unfolding catastrophe.

"An elixir," Issac says mysteriously.

"An elixir of what?" Clary interjects. "An elixir integral to a sinister plan to assault - "

"No", Izzy says sternly, whipping around to face Clary. "Honestly, Clary. Issac?"

"In this vial – is demon blood," Issac says as he raises the vial to the light.

Clary freezes. Warlock. Fairy. She feels slightly nauseous.

"Izzy, we have to go back to the Institute", Clary whispers, keeping her eyes trained on the bottle and Issac.

"You know I'm part warlock, part fairy, yes?" Issac continues. "Well, I've devised two liquids that replicate the properties of warlock and fairy blood. And this – this is the result".

"How do we know that that' artificial blood?" Clary asks, edging towards the door.

Issac takes a white, plastic dish from the drying rack, and slides a drawer open. He quickly chooses a knife, and just as Clary is about to stop him, he draws the blade across his skin.

Izzy is furious. She pushes past Clary to grab a hand towel behind her and rushes towards Issac, in an attempt to wrap the towel around his dripping wound. Clary watches as large drops of shimmering white liquid fall onto the dish. The wound gradually closes up at lightning speed, and Izzy stares in shock, the towel clenched in her fists.

Issac washes his hands, and gently takes the towel from Izzy.

"Thank you", he says. He places his hand on her cheek for a brief moment and he waits until she responds to his touch by giving him a small, almost subtle, smile.

"I know you may think that it's demon blood. But as you just saw, demon blood looks like snake venom. As well as replicating demon blood, I've managed to reverse the properties. It doesn't exactly have the same properties as the blood of the angel, but it's something pure – something uplifting, enlightening", Issac explains.

"Something magical?" Izzy asks softly. The last few minutes of chaos must have subdued her because now she looks like she's really communicating with Issac. Issac looks at her sadly. And it's not the link between warlock and magic that passes through Clary's mind – it's Issac's ability to look so deceivingly human. She doesn't think it's possible for someone imbued with so many supernatural traits to exhibit human qualities, but he's doing that right now – and it catches her unaware.

"Sure", Issac says. "Something magical". Clary thinks about how it must be so hard for him to feel something beyond elation. What's the point of trying something new when _everything_ is just within reach? All he needs are the right words, the right thoughts, the right motions – it's tragically confining.

"You want to share it with us?" Clary asks softly.

"If you let me", Issac replies.

Izzy rolls up her sleeve and motions Issac towards her.

"Wait", Clary says. They both look up at her. "Why are you disturbingly human?" she asks.

Issac grabs Izzy's arm before she has time to retaliate, and with the fierceness of a wild animal, breaks her skin with the sharp tip of the needle. Izzy staggers backward before collapsing onto the floor.

Clary launches herself at Issac and hits him across the face. She doesn't care what he calls her because she's intent on wrestling the syringe from him. She throws it against the wall and tiny pieces of glass dance across the kitchen tiles.

"You're going to regret that", Issac says forcefully. Clary looks at him for a moment and he takes this opportunity to grab her by the shoulders, and hurl her against the opposite wall.

Clary's head snaps back, and pain darts through her skull. She groans and slumps to the side. Before plummeting into darkness, she hears the door close. Shreds of conversation make their way through the gap between the door and the floor.

"I've got them both…fucking red head… both subdued…Valentine's daughter…brown hair…vials..still there…syringe…they'll be back".

"What about the window? Is it closed or open?"

"Fuck! I left it open".

And that's the last that Clary hears of Issac.

Followed by a bone crunching thud that makes her shudder.


	11. Update

Hey!

I haven't updated for ages because I've been really busy at uni these past couple of months. I don't think I'm going to continue with this story because I've just left it for too long and I want to move onto new things. But to everyone who has read/reviewed this story, thank you so much! As a writer, your feedback and encouragement means a lot to me!

But, here's the thing…if anyone wants to pick up/adopt this story, just send me a message or let me know some other way…I'll get back to you asap. However, I do have a few ideas for the story that I could pass on, but you really, really don't have to take them into consideration.

Once again, I'm really sorry that I had to cut this story short, and thanks so much for reading!


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